The Notebook + The Proof + The Third Lie Read Free

private. He says:
    "I orderly of captain. You do what there?"
    We say:
    "We live here. It's Grandmother's house."
    "You grandchildren of Witch? I never before see you. You be here since when?"
    "For two weeks."
    "Ah! I go on leave my home, in my village. Laugh much."
    We ask:
    "How is it you can speak our language?"
    He says:
    "My mother born here, in your country. Come to work in our country, waitress in café. Meet my father, marry with. When I small, my mother speak me your language. Your country and my country be friends. Fight the enemy together. You two come from where?"
    "From the Big Town."
    "Big Town, much danger. Bang! Bang!"
    "Yes, and nothing left to eat."
    "Here good to eat. Apples, pigs, chickens, everything. You stay long time? Or only holidays?"
    "We'll stay until the end of the war."
    "War soon end. You sleep there? Seat bare, hard, cold. Witch no want take you in room?"
    "We don't want to sleep in Grandmother's room. She snores and smells. We had blankets and sheets, but she sold them."
    The orderly takes some hot water from the cauldron on the stove and says:
    "I must clean room. Captain also return leave tonight or tomorrow morning."
    He goes out. A few minutes later, he comes back. He brings us two gray army blankets.
    "No sell that, old Witch. If she too mean, you tell me. I bang-bang, I kill."
    He laughs again. He covers us up, turns out the lamp, and leaves.
    During the day we hide the blankets in the attic.
     
     

Exercise to Toughen the Mind
    Grandmother says to us:
    "Sons of a bitch!"
    People say to us:
    "Sons of a Witch! Sons of a whore!"
    Others say:
    "Idiots! Hoodlums! Snot-nosed kids! Asses! Slobs! Pigs! Devils! Bastards! Little shits! Punks! Murderers-to-be!"
    When we hear these words, our faces get red, our ears buzz, our eyes sting, our knees tremble.
    We don't want to blush or tremble anymore, we want to get used to abuse, to hurtful words.
    We sit down at the kitchen table face to face, and looking each other in the eyes, we say more and more terrible words.
    One of us says:
    "Turd! Asshole!"
    The other one says:
    "Faggot! Prick!"
    We go on like that until the words no longer reach our brains, no longer even reach our ears.
    We exercise this way for about half an hour a day, then we go out walking in the streets.
    We contrive to have people insult us, and we observe that we have now reached the stage where we don't care anymore.
    But there are also the old words.
    Mother used to say to us:
    "My darlings! My loves! My joy! My adorable little babies!"
    When we remember these words, our eyes fill with tears.
    We must forget these words because nobody says such words to us now and because our memory of them is too heavy a burden to bear.
    So we begin our exercise again, in a different way.
    We say:
    "My darlings! My loves! I love you. ... I shall never leave you. ... I shall never love anyone but you. . . . Forever. . . . You are my whole life ..."
    By force of repetition, these words gradually lose their meaning, and the pain they carry in them is assuaged.
     
     

School
    This happened three years ago.
    It's evening. Our parents think we are asleep. They're talking about us in the other room.
    Mother says:
    "They won't bear being separated."
    Father says:
    "They'll only be separated during school hours."
    Mother says:
    "They won't bear it."
    "They'll have to. It's necessary for them. Everybody says so. The teachers, the psychologists, everybody. It will be difficult at first, but they'll get used to it."
    Mother says:
    "No, never. I know it. I know them. They are one and the same person."
    Father raises his voice:
    "Precisely, it isn't normal. They think together, they act together. They live in a different world. In a world of their own. It isn't very healthy. It's even rather worrying. Yes, they worry me. They're odd. You never know what they might be thinking. They're too advanced for their age. They know too much."
    Mother laughs:
    "You're not going to reproach them with their